Ch: 231 Tip-toe Through The Tulips

The gentle sway of Moonrise, as she sailed the calm waters of the Shallow Sea soothed everyone’s spirits.

Below decks, most of Moonrise’s former cargo holds had been completely refitted. Now her compartments were staterooms and cabins, a wide lounge with an open galley and, oddly enough, a fully functional lavatory and shower room.

Nick was slightly mystified by the addition and queried Gary on it up on the foredeck. “Usually on ship we…” He winked and nodded over the side. “This seems… excessive.”

“Yeah… how does Falco feel about swimming past your flotsam and jetsam?” He asked with a strained smile. “When we dock and build the house, everything in that holding tank will become fertilizer in my garden… I fucking love being a magical weirdo…” He murmured happily and went back to his stitchcraft in the morning sun.

“Besides… hot showers are the bare minimum. I’m never bathing in a bucket of cold river water again, if I can avoid it.”

A few of the gang got sloshy tummies and a bit of motion sickness, once the shore retreated from sight a bit. Liam distributed candied ginger nuggets and warm tea to the afflicted, solving the problem in a very civilized manner. He performed the simple duty with a sublime smile on his face; one that made him seem even more outrageously handsome and protagonistic. Rolf felt fine after a dose of Liam’s home remedy…

Ester refused to manifest until; “The world stops shaking about unnaturally” That provided plenty of time and opportunity for Gary to abuse Becky’s patience for fittings.

He spent the next two days with a needle or embroidery hoop in his hands; when he wasn’t on the foredeck, practicing terribly loud music with a ferocious grin on his face.

Evenings were warm and quiet, as they sailed through the night, taking shifts on watch or at the helm. Gary and Shai loved the early watch, with the sun rising behind the ship, illuminating the misty waves in shades of pink and gold.

“How is it we dinnae exhaust ourselves, sailing so?” She asked, when he climbed down from the rigging.

“All the excess energy that dumps into the world from the bath is all bottled up inside me right now, pouring out through my aura…” He settled on the hammock beside her, bringing his furnacelike warmth close. “The enchantments I worked into Moonrise collect some of that goodness and channel it into the ship’s systems. Now that we’re all settled in, I’ve been refining the spells. She’s getting pretty efficient at gathering and directing power.”

He leaned into her and draped a cloak from his Pockets! around them with a sigh.

“So we could sail like this… forever?” She whispered softly.

“You know the answer to that already, love.” He murmured

Nico’s cat, Miggs interrupted; climbing in Shai’s lap and insisting that Gary should take the helm. She, it seemed, should attend to some very important cat stroking that was apparently quite overdue and needed her attention immediately. Steering by moonlight and false dawn, they slowly drifted across the water in near silence.

Full dawn erupted all around, slowly bringing the rest of the little ship to life. The scent of bread rose from the galley, along with bacon and blessed fresh coffee. Soon, the deck was filled with bustling life. Liam led calisthenics amidships, followed by isotonic and dynamic tension exercises suitable for the close confines.

When they were toweling off afterward, Liam sighed. “I feel bad for Annie, cooped up in there…” He said quietly, eyeing her little stable behind the foredeck.

“Nahh, she’s living the dream and putting a ton of miles on her treadmill.” Gary answered casually. “I put a hatch in so she can look out over the bow and feel like she’s running over the sea.”

“Gary, is a treadmill what it sounds like…?” Liam asked coldly.

“Uhh, a moving platform to simulate walking or running in a confined space?” He had a nervous tremor in his voice. “Is that what you think it sounds like?”

“Yes.” Liam replied. “That is exactly what it sounds like.”

“I’ll install the gymnasium in the forward hold when we hit land… I didn’t have time for everything.”

“What’s a… nevermind.” He smiled at his mad friend. “You really are weird.”

“I was going to ask Annie if you could borrow her treadmill for a run… Now you have to ask her yourself.” He answered with a grin.

“Did someone say ‘run’?” Rolf Buttinski butted in, with his butt face…Gary shook off his inner child and smiled at his new friend. “Yes, Rolf. I’ll ask Annie if she’ll share…”

Shore barely came into sight on the evening of their second full day at sea. Port Ambrose's lighthouse was barely a faint glow on the horizon to the north, its twin in the capital of the duchy of Lemur, Port Sunderland remained out of sight to the south.

“Shore by morning… we’ve missed Port Sunderland by some twenty miles.” Nico said mildly.

“That were intentional… we would hae some time ashore an get our legs under us… an mayhap see some few new things, ere we enter town. I’ll run thee intae town on Seahorse come morning, an ye wish.” Shai reduced their speed gradually, as the dark, verdant shore slowly approached.

“I’m to guide you to Port Sunderland, no route was discussed.” He answered with a smile. “Esperanza will be doing short, local runs for a week or two, as we shake down Bounty, no hurry.”

#

Mist rose from the shore, slipped through the trees and onto the hillsides beyond, rendering everything in soft glowing gray under the moons. Gary stood at the helm, sailing into the dark, guided by his little bat friend. Xyll was no great fan of the open water and happily darted between ship and shore, watching for obstructions and a place to anchor.

Dawn found the little ship at anchor in a quiet inlet, beside a long, narrow strip of beach. A broad, grassy field lay between the dunes and road. Thick forest took over on the far side of the Shore Road, which cut back from the waterside to cross a small river. A stone and timber bridge not far upstream carried the road, while numerous fire rings showed that folk camped here often.

Gary and Shai took Gary’s little inflatable boat to shore, powered by a tiny version of the impeller motor driving Moonrise… and Seahorse, who was currently tucked away somewhere beyond reality.

They hopped out and set about summoning home, while the sun was still lingering behind the distant mountains across the shallow sea. Moonrise was moored to a tidy stone dock before full sunrise lit the grassy roadside fields, with the whole troupe inside and enjoying a bath before breakfast.

“It was not even three days… and you have hot showers aboard…” Nicholai murmured in amazement, as the whole group acted as though they had been at sea for a month.

“The shorebound are certainly strange…” He sighed, while nearly submerged in the hot, swirling waters.

#

After breakfast, Shai found Gary after a very much not frantic, brief search. He was wandering the open field around the house, aimlessly touching the herbs and grasses underfoot with a satisfied smile.

“Whae are ye doing lad?” She demanded with a laugh. “An yer still hungry, ye need not graze… we hae bread in the oven.”

“New herbs and fungi here… I have some plant fondling to do.” He said with a grin, through the mouthful of wild herbs he was munching.

“I’ll saddle thee fer a ride later lad… dinnae fill up. I’d hae thee a mite hungry yet.” She whispered, sounding peckish herself.

“We gonna go fishing?” He asked quietly. “You’ll have to help me organize my tackle… it’s been so long I can’t remember where I left my rod.” Gary’s naughty grin warmed her heart, it had been absent for a while now.

“Aye, this afternoon we’ll set it right…” She purred happily. “Now go play wi yer plants an mold. I’ve a household tae run, ye shiftless layabout!” Her gigantic floppy broom reappeared; she used it to brush him off to the perimeter of the garden proper where a few friends lingered by the treeline. “Stay near home an mind the grownups, lad.” She sang, as they formed up around him.

“Minders, lover?” He sighed sadly.

“Aye, ye are still a babe in the woods, an these woods be far from home an largely untraveled.” She scoffed at him. “Khan, wouldst thou wander alone, an ye were new landed here?”

Stolen story; please report.

“On the road, mounted on Annie? Certainly. Afoot in the woods? Am I a very great fool?” He asked, with an amused ‘stache twitch.

Gary, Liam, Khan, Luna and Dannyl marched out into the woods across the road, checking out the scene. Dannyl and Liam stuck close with Gary, on his quest to touch and or taste everything around him. Khan and Luna were more interested in the local game animals and wandered farther afield.

Like the familiar eastern shore, the west was largely unpopulated between the cities and towns. The occasional village or small town dotted the landscape, but mostly it was half wild and abandoned.

In just a few minutes wandering the woods, they stumbled on a clearing, slowly being consumed by the forest. It held an old stone foundation, a farmhouse and barn conjoined, or perhaps an abandoned inn. Too few traces remained to say… though the garden plot held a few long abandoned surprises.

“What’s a ‘Honeymelon vine’...” Gary asked, bent over in a long forgotten raised bed planter, lined with stones. He was stroking a tattered and wretched looking thing of scraggly tendrils and a few holed and crusty leaves.

“I saw an old recipe for wine made from these… Has anybody ever tasted it?” He got shrugs all around, but Liam bustled over with a bronze trowel and a jute cloth to wrap the root ball.

“We will have to see…” He said with a certain avaricious glee in his voice. “We have a little orchard of grenadier pears growing at the orphanage… this might be perfect for the understory.”

Honeymelon vine, fruiting plant, herb, moderately magical. Edible, reagent, component.

“That’s all well and good, boys… now come help with this venison, Gary.” Luna called from the treeline nearby. “Make yourself useful.”

#

Rolf got out of the bath and had a good stretch, limbering up for what was to come. He walked into the stable and hugged Annie around her huge, warm neck. “I’ll need your support, my dear.” He whispered to the enormous horsie.

The young knight sat on the floor in a vacant stall, nestled among the fragrant, spicy wood shavings. After a few moments of meditation, he felt a stirring behind his heart; as though a door had opened to a place within himself that he had sometimes felt, but never seen.

“Ahh… I feel her, she is closer. Rolf… Where is my Angie?” Ester’s high, childlike voice did little to hide the raw hunger in her words. The tiny, naked, albino girl huffed and grumbled, tugging on one lock of her long, gleaming white hair that shone even more brightly silver than the rest.

“Patience my dear, we are on the way to her.” He said softly, while laying out her new clothes for her inspection.

“The deadling filth made these garments?” She asked sharply, examining the garments with minute detail. “No animal parts or dead things in any of it?”

“He promised as much, Ester. Gary is a fine tailor and the only one nearby, as well. He is also my friend and our host, on a number of levels I would rather not contemplate… Please try to be gracious.”

Rolf held up a sleeveless white summer dress embroidered with beautiful, golden poppies at the hem. The embellishments cleverly provided just enough weight for the light garment to shimmer and billow, while remaining in place. Sandals of braided hemp rope, lined with soft cotton and a belt of braided flax dyed a brilliant marigold yellow, with a simple wooden buckle made for a very well dressed young unicorn.

Rolf held up a few remaining scraps of cloth and mumbled with some embarrassment. “I believe these go on underneath…”

“Well that’s just silly!” She snorted, before stamping off to nuzzle Annie. “Clothes for under your clothes…” She muttered into Annie’s mane. “Ridiculous.”

#

The gathering and hunting team wandered back in, dirty, muddy and smiling happily, just before lunch. “There’s a small abandoned village set back in the woods…” Gary mumbled quietly into Shai’s embrace. “Found some fun new stuff and Luna got a deer…”

“Oh, Venison stew will be fine!” She sang softly, enjoying her boy’s warmth and renewed excitement.

They spent two relaxing days, sailing by night and setting up beside the road by day. Each time the house appeared, Gary and a few minders, usually Dannyl and Liam, would wander the local area fondling the flora and occasionally murdering the wildlife.

Dannyl’s whip rooted around in the dark, rich soul of the damp forest floor, under a plant whose long slim fronds terminated in broad, dark green serrated leaves and sprays of small, white, star shaped flowers. With a shuddering wail of torment, the mandrake root dragged out into view, shrieking its fury at the world.

The screaming tuber had the rough form of a humanoid infant, a lumpy, bumpy, potato of a child with a malformed head, arms and legs, growing from its round, russet ‘torso’.

With brisk efficiency, Liam hacked off the head with his shovel and split the thing down the middle twice, creating four slightly battered plantings. He dug a hole for each and set them in, around the damp, loamy clearing. While Liam replanted the distressingly noisy vegetable, Gary handled the hefty tuber. With a bronze knife, he quickly peeled and cut the thing into quarters, wrapping each section in lotus leaves, harvested from a nearby pond.

“I’d like to grow them in the garden, but they can become a real pest in cultivated soil.” Liam shouted. “They bully the other root vegetables.”

“Super weird.” Gary yelled back. “Can I take the wax out of my ears now?”

Mandrake plant, non sentient herb, tuber, moderately magical vegetable. Toxic, reagent, component.

Mandrake thrives in abandoned cemeteries and on forgotten graves. When disturbed, its cry will attract local haunts, shades and undead. Exercise caution when harvesting.

“There’s no undead around here…” Gary muttered, once his ears were unstopped. “But this is totally an old graveyard. No markers or stones though…”

“Tradition. There was a necromancy outbreak a couple centuries ago, some lunatic tried to raise an army of the dead. Now, in the duchy of Lemur, they decapitate the dearly departed and bury the remains in unmarked graves. No names, no more intact corpses to screw around with.”

“That’s pretty fucked up…” The madman grumbled quietly. “Didn’t work… they are still there, enough to raise them with, anyway.”

“Gods, you’re creepy sometimes.” Dannyl sang with a grin. He swatted his moody brother on the shoulder and shoved him along. “The dead will be fine, leave them alone.”

“Nope,” He sighed softly. “...they’re coming along in my shadow. Occupational hazard.” He breathed in deeply and smiled. “Just a few nice clean shades. They would have been long gone if people still came here, I’ll dust them off when we get home.”

“Weirdo.” The slender, ginger artist scoffed at his big brother and swatted him again.

They wandered around for a while longer, before heading back around fourth bell, collecting seeds, cuttings and samples of anything they fancied.

“Wild strawberries!” Liam whooped excitedly from a sunny hillside, while Gary was considering a mature black walnut tree for its lumber potential.

All three lads descended on the patch, denuding it of ripe berries. Liam burgled a few offshoots for his own nefarious goals, while Gary stashed their impressive haul away.

They were in an effusive mood when they trooped back into the garden, sweaty and tired.

Shai intercepted Gary, dragging him off to the baths before absconding with the poor boy, directly to Seahorse, with promises of a picnic lunch on the water.

“I’m going to bump into Ester eventually, Shai.” He murmured from his favorite seat, against her knees.

“We would hae her settled in an meet everyone first, ere she interact wi thee more…” She sighed, while running her free hand’s fingers through his hair.

“I’ll be cool lover, don’t worry about me.”

“Tis nae thee I’m worried fer.” She murmured. “Drop anchor here, tis a fine place tae fish.”

Up the inlet a way, around a bend and among the shallows, they found a still, sunny pool. Clear water and a bare, sandy bottom suggested that she was incorrect… If the goal were to bother any poor fishies in the neighborhood. Perish the thought!

#

Back in Wheatford, Filly was at Tony’s townhouse for dinner, again. The big knight was still emotionally battered by the battle over lord Fargnahagn’s accommodations. Settling the lord in a quiet guest suite in the family manse outside town had certainly saved his marriage. Now the nightly visits of his cousin were imperiling it again.

“Filly, I love you, but for the sake of my sanity… Go sleep on your damn boat!” He whispered desperately, when he caught her alone. Adele and Filly had become near inseparable, as together they attempted to pry every secret they could, from the recalcitrant warrior.

Tony was certain it had become some kind of game for the two wretched women. At any moment he could look up and find one of them waiting, with an innocent seeming query on her lips. His responses to their badgering had begun to sound formulaic;

“My files on the Nesmith and Shaheen matters are sealed.” “My notes and evidence on the alleged slaver battle are all in Port Ellis, where the accused await trial.”

“I assure you, I am being as forthright as I can…”

It was exhausting and apparently, hilarious.

Sir Tony Dunham stomped off to get a little peace and quiet, at the roundhouse in the orphanage. Floating in the public baths during the day felt a little like shirking his duty, that faint twinge of guilt faded, as he considered his current workload, in the warm swirling water.

Priestess Miriam of Craft remained under close observation, pending a competency hearing from that cult’s nearest high priest in Port Seaward… A common member of clergy could be remanded into the care of the state by a conclave of Craft clerics and qualified lay persons…

When a noble was involved, the law made things slightly less straightforward. Miriam’s case required a conclave of her peers in the cult to come together to consider the matter, before any invasive magical intervention.

Priest Harlan’s inquiries in the matter were getting little attention from the few local nobles associated with Craft.

To date, she remained imprisoned inside Becky’s quaint magical tool. It had been expanded to surround a small, secure outbuilding…

It was a shed really, but the woman had completely lost her senses when the object had been removed for her transport to her new ‘quarters’. Once the device had been replanted by Becky’s quick, sure hands, Miriam had ceased shrieking madness and obscenities, becoming once more the obnoxious, privileged shit she had always been. Now, she remained humbly grateful to dwell in a shed, while remaining in control of her mind and body.

How she managed to maintain her complete and utter disdain for the arts keeping her in possession of her body and mind was a minor wonder all its own.

Ali, her husband, remained at liberty on his parole, pending the outcome of the investigation… And continued to insist that “my little Mohammed” be ‘returned’ to him.

Bringing the lord into Becky’s magical ward had no effect on his obsession with the tiny boy. Tony’s desk had a half dozen letters, affidavits and writs from Ali and his friends, all demanding that the young lord’s ‘son’ be ‘returned’ to him.

Just as many letters contained offers from a number of noble families to foster the lad ‘until things are settled’. Each of those was prefaced with a tedious explanation of why their household would be superior to any ‘wretched peasant hovel’. Most went on in detail to explain that such would be beneath the dignity of the supposed young lordling.

“Even when he’s out of town…” Tony grumbled, while wondering how the contents of his IN basket had pursued him into the bath. “It’s relentless.”

#

“Well, since my great oaf of a husband has scarpered off… Let’s head to the baths at the orphanage, I’m not strictly allowed, but Tony’s got a standing invitation… I weasel my way in that way regularly.” She giggled girlishly with her new bestie, as they traipsed off to the orphanage together. “Don’t ask too many questions or snoop while we’re there… They are quite secretive lately.”

#

Gary and Shai came sneaking back home after seventh bell, looking flushed and tired. “No fish?” Ivy asked with a wink at Shai.

“We dinnae get any bites… frae the wee fishies.” She answered with a wink of her own.

Gary frowned and pulled the collar of his shirt up higher, to conceal the marks on his neck and collarbones. “Do you mind?” He demanded archly, while wiggling his eyebrows at them.

“Fie… dinnae mind him, he hae left a bite mark on me arse more than once.” She cooed at her boy with a grin.

“Not my fault…” He grumbled right back. “Gotta tell me if you can’t hold on to the handlebars when it starts spinning…” With that he walked away from the two women, joining the kids and Becky by the fire for story time.

“Foolish jackanape!” She scolded him as he left, her bright happy laughter ringing against the walls of her home.

“Soo…?” Ivy murmured happily. “Handlebars?”

“Fie, he were jesting, there be no…” Shai began, until Ivy scooted closer with a wicked grin on her cute little face.

“You can tell me… don’t make me pry the answers out of Tallum… if he built a sexytimes machine, my boy helped him, whether he knows it or not!” Ivy whispered eagerly. “What spins?”

“Nae, there truly be no…” Ivy was already off, tracking down her giant and muttering to herself.

“It would be amazing if it could spin… or maybe spin me?” The diminutive mage vanished into the workshop, still muttering.

“Cursed fool!” She shouted at her grinning idiot by the fire, while her own laughter was still bubbling up, from way down deep. “I kinnae even scold thee proper, fer there be children present!”

“Innuendo? In someone’s end-o!” He sang happily and was scolded by Wilford for diverging from ‘Swiss Family Robinson’.

“Storytime…” The serious lad said firmly.

#